Servant AU- Hijack
by HoneyBeeez
Summary: Jack has to go to Astrid's house to work on a project. What he finds there shocks him. I'm sorry for the title and summary, I don't have creativity. I'm pretty sure it's better than it sounds. Rated M because there's violence and child abuse involved. Hijack.
1. Chapter 1

**I thought of this while doing dishes. I don't know what I'm doing anymore...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own How To Train Your Dragon, or Rise of the Guardians.**

**Warning: Hijack, child abuse, messed-up parenting. **

* * *

To say that Jack was uncomfortable with the notion was an understatement. But he agreed anyway, telling her to meet him at the front office after the last bell, and then they would head off. The bell rang, signaling the end of this hour's torture, and the class was dismissed. Chairs scraped on linoleum flooring, a terrible screech that left him wondering, "_Does anyone know how to pick up a chair and put it under their desk anymore?_"

With a mumble to the teacher, telling her to have a nice day, he left the classroom. And then he sighed.

He was screwed. Indefinitely.

The class he had just got out of was biology, and in all honesty, it wasn't that hard. It was easy for him. The only problem was the projects. Jack would have been fine if he had to do it on his own… but no, they had to do it… with an assigned partner.

Jack was… well, he liked doing things alone. Despite his image, he was incredibly smart, and he had the competence to do practically everything by himself. So, assigned partners was like telling Jack to go shoot himself in the foot.

And what was worse, he was paired up with the notorious Astrid Byerly. Astrid was the most lusted-after girl in the whole school. She played in almost every sport, even the boy's football team, and she had been with almost every senior on campus… if you know what I mean.

With Jack being incredibly handsome and all, Astrid obviously had her sights set on him next.

So when their teacher paired them up, Astrid automatically suggested they go to her house after school to begin the Cellular Respiration project they had to do. And this was where Jack agreed, but he felt uncomfortable nonetheless. Not because he was going to this girl's house, but because she was going to flirt with him, no doubt, and well, he didn't swing that way. That was seriously the only reason why Jack didn't drool whenever he saw her.

"Well, today's going to be a _blast_…" Jack muttered, mostly to himself as he ushered past the crowds in order to get to his next class.

* * *

…

* * *

The final bell rang, and Jack's heart dropped to his knees. He was dreading this. He really was.

"_Do it for the grade, Jack_," he told himself, and with that in mind, he made his way to the front office. Astrid was already waiting, her short skirt swishing behind her as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. _Please, as if she was waiting that long…_

"Hey Jack!" Astrid chirped when her eyes caught sight of Jack. "Ready to go?" She chirped.

"As ready as I'll ever be!" Jack said back, maybe putting a bit too much excitement in his voice. Astrid laughed, and grabbed onto his arm.

"Come on, let's get going," She said, breathing hard from laughing. Jack nearly rolled his eyes. He seriously wasn't that funny.

He let himself be pulled by the blonde girl. They stood on the side walk for a good minute when an expensive-looking car rolled up. Astrid hopped in the front seat. Jack climbed into the back. A big, but friendly-looking, woman sat in the driver's seat, her critical eye on him.

"Oh, mom this is Jack. We have a project due," Astrid explained as her mother pulled away from the curb.

"Well then, hello," Her mom said to him.

"Hello," Jack said in reply. There was no more conversation until they pulled into a driveway. It took a couple second for Jack to realize that this was the _good_ side of town, where all the hot-shots and rich people lived. He stepped out of the car, forcing himself not to gape at the humungous house that he was supposed to go into. It looked almost as big as a freaking _mansion_!

He stepped inside the house, and almost took off his shoes because he didn't want to dirty the immaculate floors. He could practically see himself in the reflection the marble threw off. Yes, _marble_. He saw movement from somewhere deeper in the house and suspected it was her dad or someone else in the house, so he waited for whoever it was to introduce themselves. When no one came, Jack opened his mouth.

"What… what was that?" He asked.

"It's nothing important," Astrid assured coldly. The she turned and started running up the stairs. "Come one, Jack!" She said.

"Ah, can we work down here?" Jack asked nervously. Astrid stopped, halfway up the first flight of stairs already, and turned around slowly.

"Why would you want to work down here?" Astrid asked. Jack gulped, looking for a good excuse.

"Because I'm scared of heights," Jack said easily. Astrid was about to open her mouth when he continued. "It's stupid, I know, but I get super nervous when I'm high up, and being upstairs kind of makes me jittery. So… please?" He asked. Astrid just sighed.

"Okay, fine. We'll work on the table," She said, ushering him to the dining room table. They cracked open their books, and started their project.

* * *

…

* * *

To say Jack stayed longer than he wanted was really an understatement. He stayed so late, he was now eating dinner with Astrid and her mother.

And things were a bit strange to him.

At first, it was the movement he saw in the home, as if someone else was there. And then, it was the appearance of food. It was a quality meal, one that could not have been cooked on the spot; these things took planning and precision. Chicken Alfredo with this type of taste and flair did not make itself. And Mrs. Byerly didn't even _step_ in the kitchen.

Something was a bit off.

After they were done eating, Mrs. Byerly shocked Jack with a deafening yell.

"HAMISH!" She screeched. Jack was wondering what the heck she was talking about, when someone rushed into the room, gather all their dishes swiftly, and retreated back into the kitchen. Jack blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what was going on.

The Byerly's had a servant.

And Jack couldn't believe it.

"Well, you two be good, and I'll be back in a while," Mrs. Byerly said, standing up. "Jack, you're welcome here for as long as you want." With that, she left.

Jack couldn't tear his eyes away from the servant boy. His brown hair had red highlights in them, and his bangs swooped into his eyes as his head was bent, concentrating on washing the dishes. He wore ill-fitting clothing; a baggy dark green shirt that went well past his waist, and a two-sizes-too-big pair of pants that bunched around his joints. Jack noticed that there were countless freckles scattered across the boy's face and bare arms.

"I'm going to take a shower," Astrid stated. "Are you going to be okay for a little while?" She asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm just going to look for anything else we might need to know for the project." Jack assured. Astrid smiled.

"Okay, then," She said, skipping up the stairs and out of sight. The sound of running water sounded from upstairs, and Jack smiled. Sliding out of his seat, we ambled his way to the kitchen.

Jack would be lying if he said that he didn't stare at the boy for a while. He was washing the dishes rhythmically, his hands roamed the dishes to make sure all the leftover food was off of them. He worked with a little frown on his face, but he didn't utter a word. Jack then cleared his throat, making the kid jump and look at him. The kid blushed, his freckled cheeks turning an interesting shade or red. Jack got his first look at his eyes too, a deep green that regarded Jack with nervousness.

"Hey," Jack greeted.

"Hi," The boy squeaked, turning back to his dishes pitifully. Jack walked over and grabbed a towel, positioning himself next to the boy.

"Need help?" Jack asked.

"No, not really," the boy responded, but he had no choice as Jack started drying the dishes and stacking them next to him.

"So, what's your name?" Jack asked, smiling as he carefully dried a plate. The boy blushed deeper, and didn't look up from his work.

"Hamish," he muttered.

"Well, hi Hamish, I'm Jack," He said, smiling brightly. The boy, Hamish looked up, and then a little smile flitted over his features, just barely lifting the corners of his lips. Jack's heart nearly beat straight out of his chest. Hamish was adorable.

"So… how old are you?" Jack asked, both of them getting back to work.

"Fifteen," Hamish said quietly. Jack eyes widened and he almost dropped the plate in his hands.

"What?" Jack sputtered. "You're only a year longer than me, why aren't you going to school with us?" Hamish colored under the interrogation, and worried his bottom lip.

"I am not allowed…" Hamish said in the quietest voice manageable.

"Not allowed…" Jack repeated. "That's a load of bull. Schools just can't reject you…"

"I have never been to school," Hamish said, his voice cracking slightly. Jack's eyes widened.

"You haven't?" Jack asked, dropping his towel and placing a hand on Hamish's shoulder. The boy jumped, dropping the sponge in the sink as he did so. Hamish shook his head, answering Jack's question.

"What the hell have they been doing to you?" Jack whispered quietly. It was then that he noticed that the boy was pale, as if he never went outside a day in his life, and that he was thin. Dangerously thin. As if he hadn't eaten in a month.

Hamish then broke down and let out a tiny sob, his body shaking with the effort it took to hold back the tears. Jack pulled him into a hug, and Hamish collapsed against Jack's chest. They stood there for a while, Jack's hand roaming up and down Hamish's back comfortingly while tears flowed down the poor servant boy's eyes.

Neither noticed the absence of the sound of running water from upstairs. Neither heard the sound of footfalls as Astrid came down the stairs.

"Jack, I'm back! Where did we-?" Astrid said, breaking off as she saw the sight that was before her. Hamish broke away from Jack, wiping his tears hastily. "You! What have I told you about talking to guests?!" Astrid sounded mad. Hamish flinched back, a sorry-sounding whimper coming from the back of his throat.

"Hey, this isn't his fault! I'm the one that-!" Jack butted in, standing up for the poor kid, but Astrid brushed him aside.

"I'm sorry that it talked to you, Jack," Astrid said, without feeling.

"He's not an it!" Jack yelled. "How could you say something like that?"

"N-no, no, it's-" Hamish tried to say, but he was shrugged off. Jack was having none of this.

"Why would you be standing up for it?" Astrid retorted. "It's just a servant!"

"No, Astrid, he's a person! And you're sick if you think of him as anything less." Jack spat.

"Just leave then!" Astrid said, throwing her hands in the air. "You can do the project on your own!"

"Fine, then I will!" Jack said, and Astrid didn't think that he would actually do it. But he shoved everything into his blue backpack angrily, and was about to leave. Hamish just watched. At the final second, though, Jack walked right back into the house, grabbed Hamish's arm, and dragged him out with him.

To say Astrid was pissed would have been an understatement. But Jack couldn't leave Hamish there with her. That would have been brutal. Jack may have pulled his own fair share of pranks, but he had a heart, and he knew the treatment of Hamish was unacceptable. The boy just let himself be dragged down countless streets, not uttering a peep until they were about a mile away from the Byerly's house. They were stopped at a crossing light when he finally spoke up.

"Thank you," Hamish said, wiggling his fingers a bit and tightening his grip on Jack's hand. Jack gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"No problem," Jack responded. "The way she was speaking about you wasn't right,"

"No, not that," Hamish said. Jack looked at him, his green eyes shiny with unfallen tears. "Thank you for getting me out of there,"

* * *

"_Thank you for getting me out of there_,"

Jack didn't know what to say to that one. Was it really that bad over there? What exactly happened to Hamish? How did he get to be their servant? Questions flooded Jack but he just pursed his lips and pulled Hamish into a gentle hug.

"You're alright now," Jack said quietly, letting go as the crossing light turned white. Their hands were still linked as Jack pulled him down the street again, leading him to wherever they were going.

"Where are we going?" Hamish asked politely. Jack just smiled.

"I'm getting you a bite to eat, and then we'll head over to my place," Jack said, "because, honestly, I'm a terrible cook." Hamish just nodded at the response. A bite to eat sounded good to his near-empty stomach.

…

A cheeseburger, some fries, and a Sprite later, Hamish and Jack were on their way to Jack's house. They twisted and turned through streets and alleyways in near silence, Hamish squeaking a bit whenever something moved in the distance. He had never been outside before, and all this was new.

"Are… are your parents alright with me coming over?" Hamish said quietly, the question mucking through his mind for a couple minutes beforehand. Jack just looked at him, and gave him a reassuring smile.

"My parents love guests," Jack stated. "They won't have a problem with you staying over,"

_Staying over_… The term reverberated in Hamish's mind for a while. What did this mean? He didn't have time to think about it, though, because it seemed like no time had passed before they were standing in front of a small-looking one story house.

"Here we are," Jack said, gesturing to the house. It looked nice. Hamish was ushered to the door, and Jack fished out a set of keys from his pocket. Unlocking the door swiftly and pulling out the keys, Jack led Hamish inside.

The first thing Hamish felt when we walked in was the warmth. It tingled up his cold skin, and his fingers felt numb in comparison. But Hamish breathed in deeply, and this definitely was a home. Not a house. A home. Many people couldn't tell the difference, but Hamish could.

"Jack, is that you?" Someone asked, walking toward them. With a baby on her hip, Jack's mother came into view. She had short brown hair and kind blue eyes, and a smiled bloomed across her face as she set her eyes on her son and his friend. "Hi, sweetie," His mother greeted. "Who's your friend?"

"Mom, this is Hamish," Jack said. Hamish waved a bit. Jack's mother smiled as she placed the baby on the floor. She gathered her bearings for a second, before tottering off in Jack's direction, holding her hands up at her brother. Jack swooped down and hauled the baby into his arms.

"Hamish, this is my little sister, Emma. Say hi, Emma." Jack cooed.

"Hiiiii…" The little girl said with a sweet smile. Hamish smiled back at the girl.

"Hello," He said. The little girl wiggled and put her hands out toward Hamish. Unsure of what to do, the boy stepped back. Jack laughed a bit.

"She wants you to hold her, see," Jack said, stepping closer and putting Emma in Hamish's arms. Hamish held the girl awkwardly as she placed her arms up over his shoulders, and leaned her head on Hamish's left shoulder. She was still. "Aw, look. She's giving you a hug," Jack cooed.

Hamish smiled as her patted the girl's back softly. Jack's mother walked over and plucked little Emma out of Hamish's arms with practiced ease.

"Sorry, boys, its Emma's bed time," She said, situating the baby on her hip once more. "Say nightie-night Emma,"

"Nigh-nigh…" Emma cooed.

"Good night Emma," Jack and Hamish said at the same time.

"I'll be right back," Jack's mother mouthed as she walked out of the room.

Hamish looked around some more. The hard-wood floors looked scuffed, as if they've seen some life in their time. The couch looked antique, but oddly comfortable. The dinner table was small, and was beaten up quite a bit. But every one of these things made Hamish's breathing easier. This was all the opposite of what the Byerly's house was. His anxiety leaked out of his body slowly.

"How old is she?" Hamish asked suddenly. Jack looked at him with curiosity.

"Emma? She's about to be two in a couple months. She's a bit… delaying in the speech department," Jack said, shrugging. "She'll be fine, I'm sure,"

"She is really cute," Hamish said, wandering around a bit. He walked under the ceiling fan's light, which was a big mistake.

Jack could now see Hamish a lot clearer than he ever did before. His brown-and-red hair was oily and his face was dirty, as if he hadn't showered in days. His dark green shirt had stains on them, and they didn't look like normal kitchen stains, either. His bony arms that peeked through his shirt sleeves were covered in freckles and bruises. His finger nails looked as though they had blood in them, as if he was scratching at some scabs… or scars.

"Hamish…" Jack gasped, walking toward him and grabbing his arm lightly. Hamish flinched at the contact, but Jack inspected his arm anyway. The bruises looked bad, and fresh. Jack's blood boiled. Who could do something like this to someone so innocent?

"I-It is nothing, Jack," Hamish tried to assure, but it was to no avail. Jack was not having any of it.

"No, it's not nothing, Hamish. What they did to you was wrong…" Jack looked up, and their faces were really closer together. Jack swallowed, about to keep talking, when his mother walked in.

"Thank God, that's over," She said quietly, not fazed by the scene she saw in front of her. "Emma's asleep, boys, but let's keep our voices down for now, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hamish replied quietly and almost immediately.

"I'll be right back, Mom," Jack said, his hand sliding down Hamish's arm and hooking onto the boy's hand. He pulled him down the hall and into a cobalt blue room.

"What are you doing?" Hamish asked quietly. Jack walked to a dresser and pulled out an extra set of clothes, the smallest set he had, and pushed them into Hamish's hands. He then ushered him out of the room, and stopped at a closet at the other end of the hall. Jack reached in and grabbed the fluffiest towel he could for Hamish, also pressing it into the boy's hands. Jack then led Hiccup to the bathroom.

"Get yourself cleaned up," Jack said. "After, we'll talk, okay?" Hamish only nodded, and walked into the bathroom.

Jack sighed, and went back into the living room with his mother. She was already sitting on the couch, sipping on a cup of tea when he entered. He smiled slightly, and sat on the couch next to him mom.

"So, is Hamish a new friend of yours?" His mother asked. Jack just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I guess so," Jack replied. His mother shot him a confused look, which he quickly countered with an explanation. "I went over to this girl's house, to work on a project, and it turns out he was their servant. A servant, mother! And they treated him like garbage! Calling him 'it'! I stood up for him, and I got kicked out basically. But before I left… I don't know, I sort of… took him with me?"

"That was very nice of you, Jack," His mother said.

"He's taking a shower now," Jack said, the sputtering of running water filling the house. "And then we'll go to bed after, I promise."

"Do you need something to eat dear?" She asked, looking at Jack with a concerned look in her eye.

"Oh, no. I ate. And so did Hamish," Jack said.

"He seemed really skinny for his age, small too." His mother regarded.

"Yes, he's only fifteen," Jack said. "Fifteen, mom! And he's been through hell and back! This was the only way I could think about helping him… I hope you aren't mad, mom."

"I'm not mad, sweetie," His mother assured, running a hand through his bleached white hair. "He's just going to have to spend the nights in your room, that's all."

Nights. She said nights. As in plural. That was immediately interpreted as 'Hamish can stay for as long as he wants' to Jack. Jack hugged his mother, careful not to spill her tea.

"Thanks mom," He said. His mother just laughed.

Hamish walked nervously into the room, dressed in a loose black tank top and baggy, too-long white checkered pajama bottoms. His collar bone stood out starkly, and his hand was rubbing at is exposed forearm. Jack shot him a smile, and then pressed a kiss onto his mother's head.

"G'night mom," Jack chirped.

"Good night, you two. See you in the morning," His mother replied.

"Good night, ma'am," Hamish said. Jack grabbed his hand and dragged him back into his blue room.

"I'm sorry we don't have an extra bed, we'll just have to share. Is that okay?" Jack asked, letting go of Hamish's hand and closing the door after them.

"It is fine," Hamish sighed. Really, he was glad he was going to sleeping in a bed, sharing one wouldn't be the end of the world. Jack sat down on his bed, and got comfortable. Hamish just stared at him. He then patted the space next to him, and smiled at the freckled boy. Said boy moved across the room and sat down next to Jack, not looking the other in the eye.

"So how did you get there? With the Byerly's?" Jack asked quietly. Hamish stared down at the bed, hoping that the piece of furniture would open up and swallow him. But it didn't and he had to answer the question.

"It's not something I like to remember…" Hamish started.

* * *

**Hamish's Past**

Valerie was a good girl. She got good grades in school, got a scholarship to a well-known university, had a loving family and a beloved sister, oh, and a handsome boyfriend.

All of that fell to the ground when she found out she was pregnant.

At first, she thought it was a coincidence. The morning sickness was passed off as food poisoning or the flu. Any weight that she gained was automatically blamed on her diet, and she would fix that by upping the intensity of her daily workouts and modifying her food choices. If there were any other signs, Valerie missed them. She simply did not know she was pregnant. That, or she didn't want to accept the fact… or give up her child.

College started up, and Valerie wasn't far from home. She rented an apartment a couple blocks away from her parents' house; not too far away, but enough so that she had her privacy. She shared that apartment with her very best friend, Lucy. They were practically sisters. They even called each other sisters.

Valerie was working on homework when the contractions started. Valerie panicked, and called 9-1-1. Help was on scene in minutes, but things didn't look good for Valerie, or for the baby. The baby's head was stuck, the umbilical cord was wrapped around its neck four times.

Valerie was weak. Very weak. She could barely talk, and she knew she was dying. By the time they got her to the hospital, she didn't have much time left. When someone passed by her, she grabbed their hand, and she managed to say something with her fragile voice.

"Take my baby to my sister… she'll take care of it…" Valerie let go of the person. She was talking about her roommate, Lucy. A minute later, her heart stopped beating, and her lungs stopped moving.

The doctors and nurses saw that they baby survived. His vitals were strong, and he was definitely a fighter. He was screaming bloody murder, but the nurses were used to that by now.

The only thing that was missing was a person to hold onto the child. Valerie was dead, no matter how many times they tried to resuscitate her. Nobody knew where Valerie's boyfriend had gone. The hospital was frantically trying to get ahold of her real sister, Helena Byerly. Once she picked up the phone, they told her what had happened. Helena was furious, but she went to the hospital anyway, holding her own one-year old baby girl in her arms, and took the poor child.

Helena named the child Hamish, but she wanted to name him Hiccup, because he was a mistake, because he wasn't supposed to be here. She took the child home, and cared for him like her own.

For the first couple years that is.

As soon as he could function properly, as in walk and talk and have at least some hand-eye coordination, she put him to work. He never stepped outside, he never talked back, he did his chores, and then escaped to the basement, where he was allowed to be in his free time. The basement was cold, and there were only a couple blankets to keep him warm. There was no bed.

Hamish barely ate. He was weak, he was always light-headed, he was always behind on sleep. Whenever he was just a bit sluggish, and Helena saw, he would get a good beating. He usually came out of it with a busted lip and a couple bruises, but sometimes he got a good cut somewhere on his body due to her rings she insisted on wearing. The very same rings Hamish had to polish.

Astrid was only a year older than him. When she was little, she would try to play with him, but Helena pushed her away.

"No sweetheart, he doesn't play with good little girls like you,"

"Why not mommy?"

"He's a killer. He's killed my sister."

"Oh,"

It was the start of hatred and indifference in Astrid's life. She saw him as trash, because that was how she was raised. She didn't know any better.

When Astrid started bringing people over, Hamish quickly got the message to stay out of sight for as much as he could. He got a good thrashing a couple times because a couple words were exchanged between him and the guests. He was only visible when Helena called him. And then he was out of sight in an instant.

So when he was talking to Jack that night, he knew he was going to be in trouble. But Jack had cared for him, helped him with his chores, and was kind to him. That kind of overwhelming compassion made Hamish never want him to go.

* * *

Hamish's story caught up to the present, tears stinging in his eyes as he told every bit of it. Jack's eyes were shining too, with tears for this boy he barely knew. In a flash, Jack had gathered up the boy in his arms, rocking him back and forth, running a hand through his still-wet reddish hair. Hamish clung to Jack's tee shirt helplessly, the second time that day crying onto him.

"I will never do that to you," Jack mumbled to Hamish. "That's wrong, what they did, and you're safe now. You're here… I got you," Then, because it felt like the right thing to do at the moment, Jack pressed a soft kiss on top of Hamish's head. Hamish, stopped his crying for a second, surprised at the foreign action.

"I'm not going to hurt you, ever." Jack said, holding on ever tightly to the rigid boy in his arms.

"Thank… thank you, Jack…" Hamish said, spent.

"I didn't do anything, I just did what was right," Jack said. Hamish looked up at him, and gave him a watery smile. "We should get some sleep. You look tired."

"Yes…" Hamish said, wiping his eyes with the collar of his tank top. Jack clambered into his bed first, and Hamish followed him. Jack was at the very edge of his bed, his back pressed up against the adjacent wall to give Hamish some space.

"Good night, Hamish," Jack whispered.

"Good night…" Hamish said back.

Jack drifted off to sleep in an instant, the surprising warmth that came with another body in the same bed putting him to sleep faster than any medication could. Hamish lay there for a while, the bed so comfortable and he was unaccustomed to it. He felt himself scooting closer to Jack, feeling himself curl up in a ball. Hamish was practically buried under the covers, Jack three inches away from him.

Hamish could hear Jack's heartbeat, could see his chest moving slowly and deeply. Hamish felt his eyes droop.

_Thank you for sending Jack to save me_, Hamish thought, thanking God, before he fell it the depths of sleep, for the first time, with a smile on his face.

* * *

**Please don't hate me.**

**Some elements of this story is based on real things that have happened. Not necessarily the servitude, but what happened to Valerie happened to my mother's friend. **

**I'm not sure if I'll be continuing this or not. If you have any ideas, feel free to tell me!**

**I love you all, please leave a review! **

**-HB **


	2. Chapter 2- FINAL

Hamish woke up later than he should have, he could tell. Before he even opened his eyes, he wondered why the heck Byerly hadn't barged in and beat him yet. But then he woke up a bit more… and felt what he was laying on, and felt a foot touching his, and felt light hitting his face slightly.

Hamish's eyes flashed open, wanting to make sure this wasn't a dream. _It wasn't a dream_! Hamish was sitting upright in seconds, breathing hard and a smile stretching across his face. This was all real. Jack was real. _This bed was real! He slept on a bed_! The sunlight (actual sunlight!) was streaming through the blinds of Jack's window, hitting his face.

Jack groaned next to him, rolling around on his bed. Hamish's smile fell. He slowly slipped out of the bed, and crept to the door. With one last look behind his shoulder, Hamish slipped out of Jack's room. He couldn't risk Jack waking up. He knew by now that people were better when they slept enough.

Padding down the hallway, Hamish found himself in the living room. It wasn't all that bright, but he could still find his way around. He glanced at the T.V's clock, and in neon lights, it told him it was 6:03. Wow, he really was sleeping in. Hamish let out a content sigh as his shoulders sagged. No chores to be done, oh no, not anymore. There was this new sense of freedom that wrapped its arms around Hamish, this feeling of no responsibilities, the feeling of complete relaxation.

Hamish wrapped his own arms around his chest, his fingers clutching at his ribs. Silently, he started to walk around Jack's home. It was sort of small, unlike anything he was used to at the Byerly's. The kitchen was quaint, and it had just enough of everything to get things done.

That was the thing that was ebbing at Hamish's mind. Astrid and her mother had always asked for more out of him, wanted more out of everything, wanted more of everything they couldn't have. These people… Jack's family… they took what the needed, what was just enough, and made the most of it. They turned a minus into a plus.

Hamish smiled a bit at that. But then he heard something, and his smile faded. His body tensed up, his eyes filling with fear.

"Jack?" A feminine voice asked. A figured came walking down the hall, and it was Jack's mother. Hamish relaxed. "Oh, Hamish, it's only you. I thought Jack was sleep-eating again."

"Sleep eating, ma'am?" Hamish asked timidly. Jack's mother only laughed.

"Call me Lucy, sweetheart. Everyone does." She said. "And oh, that's a very long story. I'm sure I'll find time to tell it to you later. Now, would you like some breakfast?"

"Yes, please," Hamish responded. With that, Lucy bustled into the kitchen, placing a hand lightly on Hamish's shoulder as she passed him. She pulled out a black pan practically out of nowhere, and set it on the stove. Then she got out some butter and a carton of eggs.

"I could help you with-" Hamish started, but Lucy shot him a look.

"I'm fine dear, let me cook." Sh And cook she did. In a couple minutes, Lucy was handing him a plate filled with eggs, and he took it gratefully. He sat down on the table and ate the eggs, almost scarfing them down but he controlled himself. Lucy joined him, a plate of eggs in her hand as well.

"Why are you up so early, Hamish?" She asked before she took a bite.

"I think I woke up out of habit." Hamish replied. "I usually wake up at four thirty, but I must have slept in a bit today,"

"Well, if you wake up at that time every day, I would sleep in too!" Lucy said, laughing a little. Hamish smiled.

"Good morning, everyone," Jack said, a bit groggily. He was already dressed in a pair of black jeans and a dark blue ionic tee shirt.

"Morning, sweetie," Lucy said. Hamish didn't say anything, but he flashed Jack a miniature smile (it secretly made Jack's heart melt, but he didn't let it show).

"Mom…" Jack groaned, sitting at the table and resting his head on his arms. "I don't wanna go to school…"

"Jack, you know better," Lucy said, scooping up Hamish's and her dishes and placing them in the sink. "I'm not letting you skip today. Your education is important." As she was giving a mini-lecture to her son, Hamish slipped silently out of his seat and to the sink, starting to wash the dishes without Lucy noticing.

"I know, Mom," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "I just think that missing one day wouldn't hurt-"

"You would be behind on homework, let alone be lost when you actually go back," Lucy said.

"Mom, I have one hundred and fifteen percent in every single one of my classes…" Jack said. What? Just because he was hot and popular doesn't mean he slacked off in school! "Missing a day wouldn't change the world."

"I don't care, Jack," Lucy huffed. "You're going to school."

"Well, it was worth a shot…" Jack muttered, letting his head fall back onto his arms. Lucy turned around, and saw Hamish doing the dishes.

"Ack, sweetie, I was going to do those," Lucy said, placing a hand lightly on Hamish's shoulder. He winced slightly, but didn't stop cleaning.

"It is fine," Hamish said. "I got them." Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Alright dear," She said lightly. "Jack, it's time to go. Hamish, honey? Will it be alright if I left you here for a couple minutes? I need to drop Jack off at school."

"Oh, yes, that will be fine," Hamish said, finishing up with the dishes and drying his hands lightly with a towel.

"Great. You don't have to worry about a thing. Emma should still be asleep, and if she wakes up, you can leave her in there until I come back. A little crying never hurt anyone." Lucy said kindly. Jack got up, and slung his backpack on his shoulder.

"Bye, Hamish," He said. "I'll see you when I get back, okay?" Jack flashed Hamish a warm smile.

"Okay, bye," Hamish said.

Lucy and Jack went out of the house, and soon, Hamish heard the sound of a car engine purring. Then the car pulled away and drove down the street. Hamish was alone in the house again, and he let out a sigh. He looked around for a bit, feeling absolutely stuffed, before gingerly sitting on the antique-looking couch. For how uncomfortable and stiff it looked, it was actually kind of comfortable…

And then Emma started crying. Hamish's eyes grew wide, and he was tense.

_Please don't let her be up… please don't let her be up…_

Emma cried again, and Hamish sighed. The sound was already hurting his ears, and it was pulling at his heart. He padded over to the room silently, and pushed the door open. Emma was standing in her crib, tears sliding down her face, her intricate brown eyes fixed on Hamish. She was about to cry again, when Hamish walked over to her.

"Shhh…" Hamish said, trying to calm her. "You are okay, Emma…" He touched her head softly, and she latched onto his fingers. "There we go…" Hamish said, smiling a little. Emma smiled back at him. Hamish wiped her tears from her cheeks. "A-all better…" Hamish said, the little girl still holding onto his finger tightly.

"Lucy!" A deep man's voice called. "Lucy, I'm home!"

"She is out at the moment!" Hamish replied, thinking that it wasn't the best idea to call out to someone at the last minute.

"Who's there?" The man asked. Hamish's eyes grew wide and he was shaking all over.

"I am coming," Hamish said. He pulled his finger lightly, but Emma held on. "Emma… please let me go…" He muttered, prying the girl's chubby fingers off his own finger. She started to cry. "I will be right back…" He said, walking out of the room. Emma's crying got progressively louder with each step. He slipped out of the room and walked into the living room.

The man was tall, with tossled brown hair and deep blue eyes. He looked at the man, hoping that he didn't see him shaking.

"Who are you?" The man asked, lifting one of his eyebrows expectantly.

"H-hamish, sir." He replied. "I am a friend of Jack's…"

"Friend of Jack's, huh?" The man said, noticing that Hamish was wearing an old pair of Jack pajamas… and that they hung off him loosely. Hamish nodded, swallowing loudly. He was sure the man could hear his heart beating.

"Well, nice to meet you, Hamish," The man said, sticking out his hand for Hamish to take. The boy did so, his hand nearly breaking in the man's strong grip. "I'm John, Jack's father."

"Nice to meet you too, sir…" Hamish said, letting go of John's hand.

Emma was still crying in the background.

"Emma…" John groaned. "I'll be right back. She needs to be changed…" With that, John walked out of the room.

Hamish sighed, and placed himself on the couch once more. John seemed like a nice man. Hamish was nowhere near tired, but he felt emotionally drained, and it wasn't even noon yet.

John walked into the room, Emma on his hip. The little girl had her hair tied up neatly in a pony-tail and she was laughing lightly. As soon as she saw Hamish, she stuck her hands out, wiggling her fingers at him.

"She wants you," John said with a little laugh, which sounded strange in his deep voice. Hamish smiled a little, and took Emma out of John's hands, placing her on his lap. She instantly leaned over and wrapped her little arms around his neck in a hug.

"Good morning to you, too…" Hamish said. Emma giggled, and slide off his lap to run around.

"She likes you already," John said, looking a bit oddly at Hamish. "So… why aren't you at school?"

"I do not go to school," Hamish said, looking at his bare toes. John just nodded.

"Okay," John replied. The front door opened quickly.

"Hamish, sweetie, I'm-" Lucy was saying as she stepped in. "John! Hi, babe…" She said, smacking a quick kiss on John's lips.

"Hey, Lucy," John said with a smile. Emma ran over and quickly gave her mother a hug. Lucy hefted the little girl into her arms, and blue a raspberry on her cheek. "Our little girl found herself a boyfriend," John said, jerking his head towards Hamish. He colored, and looked back down on the floor.

"Oh, really now?" Lucy asked, putting Emma on the floor. The girl ran over to Hamish. She placed her pudgy hands on his knees.

"Please, please, please, please… please!" Emma chanted. Hamish looked at her parents quickly, before pulling the little girl onto his lap a second time, holding her around the middle. Emma poked his nose, and then almost jabbed her thumb into his eye, and gave a lock of his reddish hair a tug.

"Emma, be nice…" Lucy scolded nicely.

"It is alright…" Hamish said with a light smile. The tug didn't even hurt.

* * *

Hours passed, and Hamish found himself in a quiet house. Lucy was laying Emma down for her afternoon nap, and John was out doing an odd job for his boss. Hamish was in Jack's room, looking at the few books that were in the shelf.

There was a single knock on the door, and Lucy stepped in a moment later.

"Hi, Hamish," She said. Hamish smiled at her.

"Hello," Hamish said. He couldn't bring himself to call her 'Lucy.' He just couldn't. It felt disrespectful somehow.

"Would you like anything for lunch, dearie?" Lucy asked.

"I think I am okay at the moment," Hamish said lightly, shutting the book he was holding and placing it gingerly on the shelf.

"Well, I'm glad to see someone taking care of those books," Lucy said with a light laugh. She stepped closer to him, and turned his head to look at her. Then she placed a hand lightly on his cheek.

"Ma'am…?" Hamish asked, a little fearfully. Lucy was staring into his eyes

"Sorry," Lucy was, withdrawing her hand away from his face. "You… you remind me of my friend… from a while back. It's… it's a long story…"

"I have time," Hamish said, the corner of his lips twitching up a bit.

* * *

The two of them were sitting on the couch, Lucy's hands folded neatly in her lap.

"My roommate in college, she was amazing. We were best friends. I was always working at the little bistro at the college to work off my loan, and she would always be doing homework. We were practically sisters." Lucy said with a laugh. "And then, one day, she had to be taken to the hospital. She was pregnant, and we all didn't know… She died in childbirth. I… I offered to take the child as soon as I found out but… her son was already sent to a family member…"

"Hamish just looked at her, eyes wide.

"What was the name of the family you were living with, Hamish?" Lucy said, suddenly and urgently, one of her hands taking hold of his. "The family who mistreated you."

"The Byerly's." Hamish said quietly, as if just saying that name would cause them to appear and drag him back into that awful house of theirs. Lucy gasped, and in a flash, Hamish was wrapped up in her arms. She cried on his shoulder, her hand stoking his hair lightly.

"Hamish…" Lucy said, her hold on him tightening, as if she didn't plan on ever letting go.

"Is… there something wrong?" Hamish questioned. Lucy moved away from him, and cupped his cheek again.

"You were supposed to be my son…" Lucy said quietly, a smile breaking across her face. "You were supposed to be _here_…"

Hamish's bottom lip quivered, tears forming in his eyes.

Lucy was his mother's best friend. Lucy was who his mother wanted him to go live with, not Byerly. This was supposed to be his life. Jack was supposed to be his brother. Emma was supposed to be his sister. John and Lucy were supposed to be his parents.

And he had found them, completely by chance.

Lucy and Hamish hugged once more, both of them crying now.

"Hey guys!" Jack said, walking through the front door. "Turns out it was a half day at school- why are you guys crying?" Jack stopped walking and just looked at his mother and Hamish crying on and hugging each other.

"Jack…" Hamish said, jumping up and hugging Jack furiously. Jack blinked, surprised that Hamish would be acting like this. What happened to the boy that could barely look him in the eye, let alone hug him?

"Is everything alright?" Jack asked, hugging Hamish back.

"Everything is perfect," Hamish mumbled into Jack's shoulder, pulling away. "Sorry if we made you upset."

"Oh… no, I'm not upset… but can someone tell me what's going on?" Jack asked.

"Jack, Hamish was supposed to be your brother." Lucy said. Jack's eyes widened considerably, and with a laugh, he threw his backpack down on the floor, and basically tackled Hamish to the floor. Hamish laughed.

"Oh my gosh!" Jack said letting go of Hamish quickly. "You didn't know, huh?" He asked.

"No. Did you?" Hamish said, shaking his head. Jack laughed again, a smile coming on his face that will probably never go away.

"No!" Jack said. "This is totally coincidental!"

"It is fate," Hamish said, smiling brightly, a new sparkle shining in his eyes.

* * *

For the longest time, Hamish thought the world was out to get him, that he had no purpose. He believed that there was no hope for a person like himself, stuck with his aunt's family doing dishes and chores for the rest of his life. But, all this time, everything was leading up to this very moment, where Jack will walk in and do what was right. Hamish didn't even want to think about what would have happened if Jack didn't drag him out of that house.

Who knew that his hardships, his pain and his anguish, would lead to his happiness, his peace, and his family?

* * *

**The End~~~**

**I'm not sure if this needs clarification about what happened, but if you do, feel free to PM me! I don't bite!**

**Thank you for reading! I had so much fun writing this! I hope you enjoyed!**

**Love you all!**

**-HB**


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